


Observation

by hopelessbookgeek



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessbookgeek/pseuds/hopelessbookgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How could he say that Gavin wasn’t paying attention when he could close his eyes and still map the constellation of Michael’s freckles?" Gavin doesn't notice much, but once he does, he doesn't forget. Absolute fluff in the first chapter, smut and fluff in the second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Observation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my very first Mavin fic (I tried not to ship them, I really did, but...), so I hope it's not too awful. It kinda got away from me a bit. I'm not even sure if there will be a second chapter, I guess that'll come down to the reaction I get to this part. I hope you enjoy it!

Gavin Free, to the surprise of absolutely no one, was not particularly observant. He only half-listened to most conversations, he was slow to pick up on a lot of jokes, he had trouble recognizing when people were flirting with him or making fun of him, and he said “what?” so often that pretty much everyone else in the office teased him about it. (Michael had actually always thought it was cute, hearing that English lilt turn it into “wot”, but he never told anyone.)

What he’d tried to explain a million times, though it fell on deaf ears, was that it was frustrating because he could be so incredibly focused on something, to the point of developing an almost photographic memory about it, even if he was slightly scatterbrained about anything else. Geoff was the only one who kinda knew what he was talking about, but even he didn’t think there would come anything that could pique Gavin’s interest to such an extreme. And he was partly right– it didn’t come down to being an anything but an anyone. Geoff, you see, hadn’t counted on Michael Jones.

It took Gavin a long, long time to realize he had feelings for Michael. He knew that he liked him, but they were friends, best friends. Michael was his boi. They were Team Nice Dynamite. They were friends, just friends. Right? He wasn’t gay, he loved girls, he was attracted to them, not Michael, not him, not the way his hair sprung back into curls when you pulled on it, no, not the dimples in his cheeks or the way his eyes looked like molten gold in the sunlight–

He knew on some level that bisexual people existed. He’d dated a bisexual girl in high school. He knew that it was possible for people to be attracted to multiple genders and that many people were. He just didn’t think that applied to him. It wasn’t men in general, it was Michael, just Michael, so it couldn’t count, right? He spent a few hours online asking around to see if that was possible, for him to be straight with an exception. (The answer, according to the internet, was a distinct yes, but even then he wasn’t sure.)

It even took more than jerking off while thinking about Michael for him to really admit it. After all, he jacked it to straight porn all the time, and there were cocks in that, so it really wasn’t anything extraordinary, right? Right?

Not right. It was the morning after when it really hit him. He was a little late– Geoff overslept– and so Michael was already there when he arrived, hair gleaming like red gold in the light, smiling that wide smile he only seemed to shine on Gavin. “Hey, Gav!” And that was it. The chirp of his voice, the nickname, that was it, Gavin gave in and admitted that yeah, when he wasn’t looking he fell hard for Michael Jones, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Comparatively, it took him much less time to realize that Michael had a thing for him as well. The only person he confessed his feelings to was Geoff, who snorted, said “as if I didn’t know”, and then promptly made sure everyone in the building but Michael and Lindsay knew, too. Almost everyone reacted in a similar way to Geoff. Ray was the only one who didn’t laugh, and because of that, Gavin found himself coming to Ray whenever he wanted to vent.

“Just tell him, man,” Ray told him, as he always did. “He likes you too, and you’ll feel better if you tell him.”

“You’ve been spending too much time on the internet, Ray,” Gavin would reply. “All those people who think Michael and I are together. They were–”

“–Right about you, so why shouldn’t they be right about Michael, too?”

Later that day, Michael came to Gavin, alone, with an uncharacteristically shy smile on his face, and told him that he and Lindsay had decided to have an open relationship. Gavin realized that “so what?” was the wrong answer when Michael stormed away. It was only late that night when he realized what Michael had been trying to tell him, but even though he tried to apologize, Michael wouldn’t speak to him for two days.

When those two days were up, though, Gavin was ready. He’d dressed nice for once, in dark jeans and a button-down (and okay, he still had his FISH!!!! shirt on underneath, but at least he wasn’t just wearing Rooster Teeth merchandise), and brought Michael a sandwich from his favorite sub shop. He took him aside after work.

“Michael?” He blushed a little as he said it; enough time on the fandom parts of the internet and he’d seen the amount of people making fun of him for the way he pronounced the name like “Mi-cool”. He didn’t think it sounded like that, but then, the voice you hear and the voice other people hear isn’t typically the same thing.

“What, Gavin?” Wince. Michael’s voice was sharp and splintery, not the fake-angry voice he used for humor in the videos but actual, pained rage.

“I’m… sorry for not understanding what you meant the other day. I get it now.”

Michael glanced over at him, his jaw sharp enough to cut glass, his eyes black as obsidian in the light of the setting sun. “I don’t even know why I bother with you anymore. I should have known you wouldn’t get it, you’re so fucking stupid–”

He’d heard the epithet a thousand times, and usually he might agree, but not now, not from Michael, Michael, how could he say that Gavin wasn’t paying attention when he could close his eyes and still map the constellation of Michael’s freckles? How could he call him stupid when he loved him so much? Didn’t he see that Gavin was trying his best? “But you’re my boi,” he blurted out.

“Yeah, I thought so too. But I’m not. I’m Lindsay’s boy, and I always will be, because we’re engaged and that’s how it’s gonna be, just the two of us, the way it should be, because that’s what people do–” Gavin might have noticed that he seemed to be talking just to placate himself, but he didn’t, because he was furious.

“It doesn’t bloody work like that!” he shouted. He should have been worried because they were in the office parking lot, after all, anyone could have heard, but he didn’t care. “You don’t get to say ‘oh, sorry, luv, better luck next time’, not when you’re talking about love!”

Michael crossed to him quickly and shoved him up against a car, hand grabbing Gavin’s shirt collar. “I never fucking said I loved you.” Still, he sounded unsure. Later, Gavin would wonder if Michael went through as much hell as he had, trying to reason out these feelings, and if he hadn’t gotten as used to them as Gavin had.

“You didn’t have to! I’m supposed to know, aren’t I, otherwise it isn’t…” His throat closed up around the word love. It was harder and harder to say every time, if Michael didn’t love him too. A sudden doubt bloomed in his chest. What if everyone was wrong? What if he’d just convinced himself that Michael loved him when really…?

“You’re such a fucking moron,” Michael spat, but he let go of Gavin and took a step back. “I can’t believe I let Lindsay talk me into this.”

“She’s okay with this?”

“She set this up, for fuck’s sake. And what the hell do you think this is?”

Gavin looked down at the ground. “I dunno, I just… I love you, Michael. It’d be easier if I didn’t, but, y’know… I thought maybe you might…”

Michael sighed, and it was obvious that all the fight had gone out of him. He sounded tired when he spoke next. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this, I was gonna just marry Lindsay and be happy with her, and then you had to come into the picture…”

He noted that distinctly, Michael had not said I love you back. “What are you and Lindsay gonna do?”

“Same as ever. We’ll get married, because fuck me if I don’t love her to death, but you… you’ll just be there too. Because try as hard as I can, I can’t just put you aside. You… you’re mine, too.”

Gavin embraced him then, and it should have been weirder than it was, but it just wasn’t because Michael was warm and smelled like sweat and cheap cologne and salt, and they fit together perfectly like the dumbest, most clichéd puzzle pieces in the world. “Michael,” he mumbled.

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.” And that was it. There weren’t fireworks, there weren’t trumpets, there was just Michael’s plush mouth and his hands on Gavin’s lower back and the sound of someone, probably Geoff, laughing in the distance. He was probably laughing at them. Gavin was used to it and Michael just didn’t care.

They broke the kiss messily, Gavin wiping saliva from the corner of his mouth but beaming like an idiot. “I’m gonna go home now,” he said, living up to his reputation as the dumbest person in the office. He should have said something else; thanks, maybe, or I love you again, but it didn’t occur to him. He didn’t have to impress Michael.

Geoff came out to his car, still chuckling, and Gavin went to ride shotgun. He waved goodbye to Michael, who shook his head with that special shy smile, and said “you’re such a fucking knob” before wandering away. It bothered Gavin on the ride home that Michael hadn’t said I love you.

It occurred to him later, when Michael’s expletive was ringing in his ears, that maybe he had.


	2. Exploration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this will probably be it. I hope you guys like it!

In the end, it was harder for them to come up with a term for it than it actually was to do it. Geoff called it ‘banging’, Lindsay called it ‘getting it in’, Jack called it ‘gay sex’ (with a slightly quizzical look, because he wasn’t sure why he was being asked), Ray called it ‘the perfect Saturday night’. Gavin called it heaven. Michael called it a mess.

Gavin wanted their first time to be absolutely perfect. He made sure he had lube and condoms and planned a midnight picnic under the stars. He dressed nicely, made sure his hair was in order, and packed Michael’s favorite foods. Things started well, too; they talked and laughed and maybe got a little tipsy, and then they started fooling around. Michael’s broad hands were hot and only a little sweaty on Gavin’s neck, chest, back, ass. Gavin let his mouth wander (he figured if he was kissing Michael, he wouldn’t be able to say anything stupid) and grinned excitedly with every little bit more of Michael’s skin he was revealing.

He was beautiful, wasn’t he? Not beautiful, really, not in the way Lindsay was, not in the way women were, but what did you call men? Handsome? Hot? Not really, although at times Michael was both. But what was he supposed to call it when the moonlight drained the gold from his hair and left it dark and soft? What was he supposed to call the shy dimpled smile that always followed an ‘I love you’? What was he supposed to call it when Michael, shirtless and beltless with his jeans riding low on his hips, climbed on top of him and ground their hips together just like that, oh yes, right there, don’t stop–

He did know what to call the moment right after that: embarrassment. He didn’t think about the consequences of certain actions, and when he was buzzed and in love and had a gorgeous half-naked guy grinding on him, his body just couldn’t handle it, and he came in his pants. It took them both a second to realize what had happened, but when they did, the mood soured real fast. Gavin stammered something about overstimulation and Michael stormed away to jerk off behind a tree. Gavin wanted to throw up, because it was all his fault, he’d bollocksed it, he’d ruined the night for Michael.

Michael drove him home shortly after. He’d accepted Gavin’s apology and said that he wasn’t mad, but Gavin shrank a little in his seat because he always knew when Michael was lying. He took a hot shower, avoided Geoff’s questions about what had happened, and fell asleep furious with himself. He probably would have stayed furious with himself if it weren’t for the two texts he received when he woke up:

From: Lindsay 12:07AM Michael told me about your night. Could have been worse. Michael did the same thing when we started dating except he ruined expensive dress pants and got some of it on my favorite dress. He’s not mad.

From: Michael <3 9:34AM sorry i seemed so mad last night, didn’t mean it. love you. call me when you get this

Gavin smiled, dialed Michael’s number, and started to forgive himself.

They didn’t try again for a while. Neither really liked the idea of having to plan it out (Gavin was afraid the anticipation would ruin him again, and Michael just preferred spontaneity), but they had so little free time that it was hard to get time alone. They could go to Michael’s place, but Gavin was too embarrassed to do anything if Lindsay was there, which she usually was. Geoff and his family were always home. They tried messing around in Michael’s car once, but the backseat was way too cramped and hot and generally unsatisfying.

The closest they’d gotten was a Thursday afternoon. Gavin had spent all morning sending Michael AIM messages detailing everything he wanted to do to him when they were alone, and at one point when the two were crowded together, Michael took Gavin’s hand and guided it between his legs so that Gavin could feel how Michael’s cock was straining at his jeans. As soon as everyone else had left for lunch, they dove on each other.

Michael pressed Gavin up against his desk, scrambling to get their jeans unbuttoned. “You think you can just send me messages like those, you fucking bitch? I was trying to work but no, you just had to describe how pretty you’d look on your knees with your mouth wrapped around my cock. And you know what? You’re fucking right. Those fucking cocksucking lips of yours are really goddamn distracting.” He finally succeeded in shoving their jeans and boxers down to their knees and took Gavin’s cock in hand.

“Oh! Michael!”

“Yeah, that feels good, right?”

“No, I meant… your hands are cold…” Michael started to take his hand away, and Gavin shook his head. “Don’t! Keep– keep going, it’s– oh.” He trailed off into a moan.

“Better?”

Michael got a deep satisfaction from the fact that Gavin couldn’t coherently respond and that babbling turned into moans turned into whimpers the more he ground their hips together. And he knew they’d just started, but fuck if Gavin wasn’t so fucking hot, and they were both getting close–

“What the fuck?”

They jumped apart, trying to hide their obvious erections from Ray, who’d just walked in. “Ray, we weren’t–” Michael started at the same time Gavin tried “we were just–”

Ray held up a hand, expression calm even as a blush spread over his face. “I don’t care, I really, really don’t care. I’m going to grab my phone and I’m going to walk out and I’m going to pretend I haven’t seen both your dicks, okay?”

It didn’t work out that way, though. Ray couldn’t forget and the mood was ruined.

About a week after that, a Friday evening after work, they were cuddled up on Michael’s couch watching Game of Thrones in a desperate and so far successful attempt to frantically rewatch every episode before the new season started. Lindsay promised she wouldn’t be back until eleven at least (the emphasis was for Gavin; she knew he couldn’t relax with Michael with her there, and she also knew he wouldn’t catch the hint unless she really drew it out. Even then he nearly missed it). “D’you think Lindsay ever gets annoyed with me?” he asked, as the credits rolled.

“Probably. You’re insufferable,” Michael responded, but the insult lacked his usual vitriol, and he ruffled Gavin’s hair affectionately as he said it. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m over here all the time getting between you and her, and I can’t even kiss you with her around because I get so mixed up and awkward, and she knows that, so what if she thinks I don’t want her around so that we can–”

“Shut the fuck up, you prick. Of course she doesn’t think that. She and I have plenty of time to have hot sex when you’re not here, and she understands that you’re an awkward little bitch. She’s a better person than either of us are, she’s great about all of this.”

Gavin smiled in relief, and Michael had to smile as well, because he was just so damned cute. They kissed then, and then they did more than kissing, and it was a little awkward and a little uncomfortable but definitely spontaneous and definitely wonderful. Michael took a good deal of time and effort to prepare Gavin, to make sure he wouldn’t hurt, and Gavin took the time to explore all of Michael’s body with hands and mouth and eyes.

Their rhythm was a little jerky, but it was theirs, and they would get better with practice anyway. Gavin cried out Michael’s name when he came (well, it had started as Michael’s name, and devolved into just a moan), and Michael, a minute later, just murmured “I love you”. Gavin had thought nothing was more beautiful than Michael’s little gasps and moans, until then.

After getting cleaned up, they curled back up on the couch the way they were before, albeit sans clothes. “I can’t believe you thought I was so unobservant,” Gavin said after a bit of silence.

“Gav, that was weeks ago, and I was pissed. Forget it.”

“I can’t, though.” He traced down Michael’s beautifully defined jaw, the curve of his neck, the freckle-splattered breadth of his shoulder, the soft length of his tattooed arm. There were twenty-seven freckles on the top of his left shoulder. There were fifty-one on his right. “I couldn’t ever not notice you, Michael.”

“Yeah, because I’m a loud cocky asshole.”

“No.” Gavin scowled, annoyed that his attempt at being genuine and romantic was being pushed aside. “It’s like… I dunno. I’ve always noticed you, Michael. I’ve always paid attention to you, and when I didn’t realize you were trying to hit on me… It was ‘cause I was afraid that I was imagining things because I wanted you so much. I love you, Michael. I’ll always notice you.”

Michael was silent for a moment. His eyebrows scrunched up a little like he was actually sad, and he pulled Gavin flush against him, holding him tightly. “You goddamn motherfucking moron. I wasn’t thinking straight then. I didn’t think you were still worried that I believed it. I’m… sorry. I love you.”

Gavin didn’t think he would ever get tired of hearing that. They cuddled naked for a little while until it got kinda sweaty and weird and they got dressed again, although they curled up in just the same positions, only with pants on. Gavin thought about lots of things: how relieved he was to get that off his mind, how happy he was, safe in Michael’s arms, how absolutely lucky he was to find a guy like Michael and a woman like Lindsay.

And Michael? Well, he figured that he could call Gavin a lot of things, but that from here on out, unobservant wouldn’t be one of them.


End file.
